


Two Gamins (turned pirate)

by KChan88



Series: Sailing By Orion's Star: Deleted Scenes [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KChan88/pseuds/KChan88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantine and Gavroche bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Gamins (turned pirate)

**Nassau. 1710.**

Fantine spots Gavroche in a small, tucked away corner of the beach, a small dagger in his hand. He’s jumping back and forth fighting an invisible foe, whispering under his breath. Fantine smiles, covering it with her hand as she approaches. Despite Bahorel and Prouvaire accepting the offer to take one of the spare rooms in the house when they’re in Nassau, they’ve found Gavroche sleeping outside on the beach more often than not, no matter their encouragement.

“You’ve gotten your hands on a knife, I see?” she says, and he swings around, noticing than even in his surprise, he keeps a grip of the weapon, his instincts sharp.

“Oh,” he says, looking a bit sheepish at being caught, but his tone remains friendly, though guarded. “Well, I won’t hurt myself if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not,” she says, sitting down on one of the smooth rocks near him. “It seems quite clear you’re capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Oh,” he repeats, putting the knife in its sheath, turning it over in his hands as he sits down on a smaller rock, surprised at her reaction. He studies her for a moment, a half-smile sliding onto his face. “You’re awfully good with a knife. Who taught you?”

“A Scottish pirate Valjean and I helped once,” Fantine says. “He said it would be good for someone my size, that I’d be faster with this than a cutlass. He was right. Who gave you that?” she asks, gesturing at the knife.

“Bahorel,” Gavroche answers. “In case I need to protect myself.”

“When you sneak on deck when we’re boarding ships?” Fantine asks, smirking. Part of her wants to chide him for putting himself in that kind of danger, young as he is, but she knows well that it won’t get her anywhere with him.

Gavroche smiles fully now, and in the two months since he’d joined their crew that he’s done so in the presence of anyone but Bahorel, who he obviously trusts. He seems content among them, freer than he’s ever been, but she knows it will take time for him to let his guard down.

“Not going to lecture me about it?” Gavroche asks. “You are the quartermaster, isn’t discipline your job?”

“Partly,” Fantine agrees. “And I do wish you wouldn’t, but I suspect ordering you to do something probably won’t work so well.”

“Why do you think that?” Gavroche asks, setting the knife down beside him and focusing on her, pushing a streak of his dark blond hair behind his hear.

“Well it doesn’t work so well with me, and I think we probably have some things in common,” she says, folding her hands and resting her chin on them.

Gavroche tilts his head in question.

“Well, from what I’ve gathered you preferred the streets of Saint-Pierre than sleeping under your parents’ roof…”

“My parents preferred me in the streets than under their roof,” Gavroche interrupts, defensive now. “They…”

“I know,” Fantine says, raising up both of her hands in apology. “I know well the cruelty of your parents, even if I didn’t experience it myself.”

“Cosette,” Gavroche says, softening his voice, a glint of sadness in his eyes.

“She told you?”

Gavroche nods. “She was actually the one showing me how to work with the knife. And she talked about when she lived with them, said she knew my sisters.”

“She’s very careful with whom she brings that up,” Fantine points out. “So she must trust you.”

“We both know how horrible they are,” Gavroche says, shrugging, but he looks pleased. “How did you get her out?”

“Valjean and I rescued her with the help of a pirate named Myriel once I escaped slavery and Valjean from his prison sentence,” Fantine says. “It was a few years before you were born, I believe.”

“The pirate you learned under,” Gavroche says. “I remember.”

“You catch on quickly,” she says, reaching out and tapping the edge of his hat, and to her joy, he laughs in response. “Anyhow, what I mean to say is that you’ve been on your own since you were small. I know what that’s like.”

“You do?” Gavroche asks.

“I do,” Fantine replies. “I grew up in inner Jamaica, in the mountains with a small community of descendants of escaped slaves called…”

“The Maroons,” Gavroche says, smiling at her again, intrigue gleaming in his eyes now. “I’ve heard of them.”

“Yes,” Fantine says, smile growing wider. “But my mother and father died when I was very young, and I could have stayed there, in the mountains, but I…I wanted to see the world beyond it. Even if I knew it wasn’t safe. I had some terrible things happen to me as result of leaving that safe place, but I also experienced wonderful things and met people I love. Cosette, who I cannot imagine being without, even if her father was most of the reason for the terrible things. Valjean, Jahni, Rene, Frantz, Auden, all the crew. I was able to live my life on my own terms and still open myself up. I think you can have both.”

Gavroche gazes at her, and she sees the thoughts spinning behind his eyes.

“What are you saying?” he asks.

“I’m saying that if you like, the door to the house is unlocked at night,” Fantine says, feeling warmth spread through her chest as Gavroche’s eyes light up, trust burgeoning within them. “If you’d like to stay with us when we aren’t sailing.”

“I suppose I could sleep there from time to time,” Gavroche says, muttering, but there’s fondness in his voice.

“Excellent,” Fantine says, eyeing the knife beside him. “Now what do you say I teach you a few things with that dagger? I taught Cosette and Auden both, and if you like I can speak to Rene about some sword lessons.”

Gavroche beams, hopping up from the rock and unsheathing his knife, grinning wide.


End file.
